


What could have been but wasn't.

by venom_for_free



Series: Past/Present/Future [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (un?)requited love, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstanding, Pining, Post-Canon, friendship-breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Yuri stares at his phone. Uselessly. It’s not like there is anything for him to see. It does not ring when it used to and it shows no messages when he used to get notifications all damn day. No cat pictures, no skating memes, and worst of all, no new mixtapes.Yuri liked the mixtapes best. And even though he is otherwise terrible at expressing his adoration, he feels like he made at least that very clear. But now he has to click on Otabek’s YouTube channel like a fucking peasant. Like they haven’t been friends for years. Like all of the shared time and thoughts and space meant nothing. On a good day, he is aware that it is his fault, but this isn’t a good day, and he isn’t aware of jack shit except that his phone light now only ever announces more bullshit from the married idiots, not texts from his former best friend.Their Snapchat streak died three months ago and Yuri would be angry, except it was him who stopped. The irony isn’t lost on him. Most of the time.--Or: Yuri wants to surprise his best friend during a gig and sees him with a girl. Instead of talking about it, he cuts the communication. Not that it helps.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Past/Present/Future [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849843
Comments: 47
Kudos: 59





	What could have been but wasn't.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thechaoscryptid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/gifts).



> For Ary, my honorary European friend, who promised to write a fic concept in uwu-speak with me and actually pulled through. We are connected forever now.

Yuri stares at his phone. Uselessly. It’s not like there is anything for him to see. It does not ring when it used to and it shows no messages when he used to get notifications all damn day. No cat pictures, no skating memes, and worst of all, no new mixtapes. 

Yuri liked the mixtapes best. And even though he is otherwise terrible at expressing his adoration, he feels like he made at least that very clear. But now he has to click on Otabek’s YouTube channel like a fucking peasant. Like they haven’t been friends for years. Like all of the shared time and thoughts and space meant nothing. On a good day, he is aware that it is his fault, but this isn’t a good day, and he isn’t aware of jack shit except that his phone light now only ever announces more bullshit from the married idiots, not texts from his former best friend. 

Their Snapchat streak died three months ago and Yuri would be angry, except it was him who stopped. The irony isn’t lost on him. Most of the time. 

Then, the doorbell rings. He used to get excited at the noise, back when Otabek came over for surprise visits, now that he lives in Saint Petersburg. When Viktor retired again and Yakov announced that the now-empty student spot would go to the Kazakh, it had been the worst and best day of Yuri’s life. Because it meant losing his two strongest competitors, his hesitant family, the two men there for him when he needed them most, and wanted them least, all at the same time. But it also meant his best friend finally being close enough to share more than just a few sad Skype calls.

Look at what they are doing with that privilege now. 

Yuri listens to Lilia inviting her guest in. It’s one of her students,  _ ‘a promising young ballerina with a bright future, if only she puts in the work’ _ . Apparently, she does, since she is here. His mind begrudgingly returns to who isn’t there right now. 

Lifting his phone back up, Yuri glimpses at his contact list. 

Orlenda. Ossia, Oustin. 

People he met at some point and could have been important or were important for a while. Other students, sponsors, skaters. But one name is missing. Yuri stares at the little space between the last two names, where Ot- should be, but isn’t. Maybe, if he wishes hard enough for the contact information to return … He knows all he has to do is call Leo and ask for his number again. Or text Otabek through social media and pretend he lost his phone. Very much believable after three months of radio silence. 

But Yuri can’t even look at his social media. What if he has to see pictures of  _ her _ ? 

The girl. The girl he desperately wants to get to know because ... what do you have to be like for Otabek Altin to date you? Yuri is asking for a friend. But at the same time, he wants to stay away from her as far as humanly and inhumanly possible. He’d straight up shoot her to the moon if they would let him. 

He probably should have asked about her, Yuri is aware. Maybe Otabek would have told him what he wanted to know. It would have been a good moment to come clean about his hidden feelings towards his best friend, too. Now that everything is lost anyway and he is unreachable. That would have been clever. To tell Otabek how important he is and what Yuri feels, but that he knows—knows now—there is no chance for them and that he is okay with that as long as Otabek is actually happy with her. 

That is not what Yuri did, though, when he saw them in the club. Instead, his brain instantly short-circuited and he turned around and left in a flurry of anger and tears. It should have been a surprise for Otabek. It turned into a surprise for Yuri. After that, Otabek tried to contact him. Of course, he did. Otabek has the moral compass of a saint, is the fucking hero of his country, even in Russia. What was Yuri supposed to say, though? 

_ ‘Hey. Yeah. I went to the club you were playing at yesterday. I wanted to watch you. And I did. Care to tell me who that girl was, handing you a drink, lingering, touching your arm and leaning into your space, kissing your cheek like it means nothing?’  _

Yeah. No. 

Viktor already mocked him for sounding like a jealous boyfriend whenever they were out and he wanted to stay at the DJ-pult instead of dancing with the others. Otabek always blushed. Yuri knows now he was embarrassed. They used to share a lot of space, but that kind of being close always made Otabek go red. Then, he would withdraw into his shell even more than normal. 

So Yuri stayed away, trying not to look too clingy, which was hard because often it seemed Otabek genuinely enjoyed them spending time with each other and Yuri just didn’t know what to make of it. 

But all of this doesn’t matter anymore. This used to be his life before his best friend and crush—he can admit it to himself now, at least—found someone else. How was Yuri supposed to keep answering his snaps and like his stories? Like he isn’t bleeding out every time he looks at him. 

In hindsight, deleting Otabek’s number was dumb, but here he is, the fool, realizing too late what is unchangeable now. He wishes the doorbell would ring again. For him, not Lilia. 

It took two months of stumbling contact attempts and unanswered messages for Otabek to give up. A long time, Yuri admits, he has to give him credit for that. Yuri himself would have tried twice and then tossed his phone away and deleted everything, convinced it was over. Again, the irony isn’t lost on him. It is too late now, though. He can’t get back to Otabek without looking like a complete idiot. Not without admitting to the crime of deleting the number from the one person he cares about, other than his grandpa. 

Voices from the living room. A male voice. For a second, Yuri has hope, but it isn’t the one voice he wants to hear more than anything. It’s fucking Viktor. Aren’t they supposed to be in Japan? 

There is a knock on Yuri’s door and for a few seconds, he considers feigning sleep. Or being dead. But the door opens anyway, and now it’s too late to toss his phone away and act like he is unconscious. A missed chance, really. 

“Can I come in?” Viktor is already in his room, why is he asking? As if Yuri has a chance to say anything but yes now. So he says nothing. “Lilia said you are holing up.” 

Yuri looks around, and yeah, okay. Maybe he has been holing up. Maybe his curtains don’t need to be closed during the afternoon hours, but the light was too bright for him. Maybe he doesn’t need four different blankets to curl up in, but how is he supposed to honor every type of animal print the same way when he can only use one blanket? It makes no sense. The empty bag of rice crackers next to him is normal. He is a teenager with a tough diet plan. Why not snack on those if he absolutely has to? Viktor doesn’t need to know it’s the fourth this week and that the remains of the last are stored under his bed like the dirty secrets they are. Yuri sighs and looks away. 

“When did you last opened a window?” Viktor is already on his way, not asking if Yuri  _ wants  _ fresh air, just deciding he should have some. He doesn’t expect an answer, works quietly and efficiently. Half an hour later, all the trash previously surrounding him is in plastic bags. Yuri’s dirty clothes are in the hampers they belong in and he is bundled up in a clean blanket, while Viktor shakes the crumbs out of the others. 

“Why are you here?” It’s the first thing Yuri says. His vocal cords rub together, rough with disuse. It turns his voice into a croak, accidentally spilling more of his secrets to the attentive ears of his former rinkmate. Viktor’s eyes shimmer knowingly and Yuri would like to punch him, but he just helped clean up his bedroom. So instead, he pulls the blanket higher. A wall of support between him and the outside world. 

“Lilia asked me to come and look for you.”

“You should be in Japan, though.” 

Viktor frowns at him, tilts his head. “Have you forgotten what month it is?” Yuri knows it’s the off-season and it has been for a while, but there is no reason to be on his ass like that. 

“Fuck off. I still do ballet training.” He pulls the blanket over his head when the curtain of hair doesn’t offer enough of a hiding space anymore. 

“I know. Lilia tells me about your training, but …” Viktor looks seriously concerned. “That isn’t why I’m asking. I have been back from Japan for two weeks. The new season is about to start.” Yuri frowns, grumbles, pulls more blankets over his head. He wasn’t ready for that information. “Are you sure you are okay?” 

“I’m fucking  _ peachy _ , okay?” 

Viktor sighs and turns away. Yuri can tell from the shifting of the bed. “I just thought I should look after you and see how you are dealing with the thing with Otabek. I know you two are very close.” 

And okay, now he has Yuri’s full attention. The blanket flies off of his head. “What thing with Otabek?” Has the fucker actually talked about their fallout? And to Viktor of all people? How dare he. Shouldn’t he talk to Yuri first? Just because Yuri deleted all of his messages, doesn’t mean he hasn’t read them. There was no mention of a  _ thing _ .

“Well. You know? It’s all over his socials? I thought you are his best friend? I thought you would be the first to know?” 

Oh. So they were official now. Lovely. Yuri had no idea why this caused Viktor to come looking for him or for Lilia to order him in in the first place, but … “Yeah. I know.” 

Viktor nods, looks actually sad on Yuri’s behalf. “You know, it’s not the end of the world, right? You can still spend time with him. Just … less, I guess. But it’s nothing you two haven’t done yet.” And there is the dumb, hopeful smile. Yeah. Of course, they can still spend time with each other just fine. Just have his girlfriend tag along. Yuri’s stomach is a tight coil of hate. “And you can still Skype. It used to work out, Yura. There is no need to hole up. Besides, shouldn’t you spend the remaining time with him?” 

His stomach dropped, then tightened impossibly more, before it seemed to rip and ooze acid through his whole body. “What do you mean? The remaining time? He’s not dying, is he?” 

Another funny look from Viktor. “But … didn’t you just say you know about—”

“Yeah, sure, but how does having a girlfriend shorten his time here? I don’t—” 

“Girlfriend? No … I don’t think there is any ... In Kazakhstan? Is that why he is going back?” Yuri stares. Ice runs through his veins, tiny crystals slicing open his blood vessels. His body is being torn to shreds from the inside and Yuri has to feel every bit of it. 

“What do you mean, going back?” Viktor tilts his head like a puppy, eyebrows drawn tight, and in a lighter moment, Yuri would like to tell him it gives his old man forehead wrinkles, but right now, he can’t force the words through the internal death grip on his throat. 

“What do you mean by having a girlfriend?” 

“You said … it’s all over his …” 

“That he goes back to Almaty! Yura! Did you not know?” 

No. He did not know. His head is spinning and the bed seems to slip out under him. Otabek is leaving. Leaving for Almaty, so many hours away, and Yuri can’t even reach him to tell him not to go because he deleted his number. There are suddenly tear tracks on his cheeks, but the cold sensation doesn’t bother him enough to wipe them away. Otabek is leaving and Yuri wasted months ignoring him. Otabek is leaving and Yuri didn’t talk to him. Otabek is leaving and Yuri isn’t, and this is the worst thing in the world. Yuri suddenly wishes it would be an official girlfriend, not a move back. 

He bolts from the bed, suddenly filled with agitating energy he didn’t have for weeks, and opens Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. Otabek Altin, otabek-altin, @OtabekAltin. It’s everywhere. A goodbye to Saint Petersburg, to a good time, to the love that he wishes could have been but wasn’t. Yuri doesn’t understand the last part. Otabek wasn’t even in Russia for that long. Does he mean the girl? But there is no trace of her. Just pictures of Otabek. As Yuri scrolls down the timeline, they turn from black and white objects into scenes of his life, then colorful glimpses he would allow the public, then photos of them. Yuri privated most of his pictures with others when they fell out, but here on Otabek’s page, he can see all of them. He scrolls back up and watches himself disappear, then the colors fade, then people turning into things and then silence. 

“Oh my god. You are fighting.” Yuri jolts when Viktor’s voice is too close to his ear as he leans over. Why is he here again? “You two are fighting and now he is going back home.” Yeah. Right. Yuri scoffs. Why is Viktor looking at him like that? “Did you tell him?” 

Yuri doesn’t have to ask what it is he should have told him. He shakes his head. Answering Viktor is easier than the discussion that follows a  _ ‘no’.  _

“Call him.” Viktor points at the screen, swipes his fingers under the sentence that burned itself into Yuri’s mind. The love that could have been but wasn’t. Without another word, Viktor gets up and leaves him alone, staring at his screen. 

Yuri would call. If only he had the number. 

**Author's Note:**

> I WAS ASKED TO WRITE ANGST AND PINING SO I DID WRITE ANGST AND PINING. 
> 
> But Venom, why do you push out so much content?  
> Because it is 1k July and after finishing OMGTWH2, I decided to spend the rest of the time writing a one-shot a day.  
> If you commented on more than two fics of mine, please feel free to give me prompts, we are friends now. 
> 
> I'm sorry I make all those terrible choices without asking you, Taedae, but I swear the next one-shot I upload will be yours. I love you so much. Thank you for editing all of this.
>
>> And thank you to everyone else for reading this! Please talk to me about your hopes and dreams. Or ... you know ... gay boys and plot ideas. ♥  
> I'm also on  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


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